Page 16 of Falling for the Hotshot

“He must have been a total clown,” Don added, as I laughed myself silly. Through it, I nodded, trying to tell him through the joyous tears rolling down my face that he was in fact, the biggest clown ever. Everything after that was funny. Don pointed out a squirrel, holding a nut, and it was hysterical. He asked if I wanted to listen to the radio, and I couldn’t breathe. It was part hysteria, part nervous breakdown, but every bit necessary on my journey to healing.

By the time we reached the base of the hike to my lookout, the laughter had calmed down. That was the first time I had laughed hard like that in years. Both exhaustion and happiness fought for their place in my mind. I jumped out of the truck and started gathering my supplies and loading them into the wagon. Once we reached the top, which seemed a lot easier with Don with me, I ran up the stairs that I had been initially too scared to go up. Now, I took them two at a time, sending down the pulley system, while Don loaded it up from the bottom.

Chapter 17

Holding the Line

Blaze

Driving with my leg injury was tough. Thankfully, I didn’t live that far away from the fire headquarters now, having moved into employee housing. But I was still perfecting the art of getting in and out of my truck with crutches. Instead of balancing on one foot, I was trying to put more and more weight on my leg, and I felt good enough to lose the crutches for a few minutes at a time that was getting longer each day.

Hobbling into the log building, I couldn’t give up the idea that I wanted to be in one more fire this summer. On foot, walking through the burn, not from a desk. Not from a radio. Don’t get me wrong, I was so blessed to be here at all. To have God spare my life and escape with only a seasonal injury in the scheme of things. To have my dear Uncle Don transfer me to a cushy desk job when I needed it. When I was desperate to get out of my mother’s house.

I had my own place up until the start of this season. The lease terms were changing drastically, starting in mid-September, and I didn’t want to lock into a two-year lease. A lot could happen in two years. Heck, a lot could happen in two months. I was living proof of that. So instead, I gave up my place and temporarily moved all of my belongings into my mother’s garage. There wasn’t much, since I was mostly away for fires half of the year, but there was enough that she was parking in her driveway in order to provide me more room. And I hated to put her out like that. I needed to find a new place, as soon as this contract was over. Now, for the remainder of the season, I would live on-site in the barracks. Most people didn’t, because the downside of living in the middle of the wilderness brings you critters of all kinds, trying to crawl into the barracks, which made them uncomfortable. The thought of being out of cell phone service made them uneasy. The idea of not having Netflix and Amazon Prime at their fingertips annoyed them. But I wasn’t like most people.

The buildings were log cabins built in the 1920s and sealed up as well as you’d imagine for being over 100 years old. When I was younger, my dad used to bring me to these for the weekend in the fall during hunting season. I quickly learned that hunting season was just a ruse to sit around the fire and be outside, as the only thing ever shot were photos. It wasn’t until my teen years that I discovered my dad had never even put in for a license to shoot any animal in his life. It was all just to spend time with me.

Stumbling into the cabins yesterday felt like I was right back here with him. I was a kid again, roasting marshmallows over a fire out of a big bag that we picked up on the way. My dad was making coffee over the flame; he rarely didn’t have a cup of joe in his hand. I can still smell it, freshly roasted beans. He would grind them with a metal contraption that had a turning lever. The scent in his cup would fill up any room he was in. I never was much of a coffee drinker myself, but I wished I could have remembered what brand he used to drink. My mom had always hated coffee, so she didn’t know either.

Kerry was waiting for me when I walked in, despite my being twenty minutes early. Looked like neither of us could wait to get back to work.

“Good morning, Blaze,” she said, pouring herself a cup of coffee out of her thermos. It looked like a very light roast, the color nearly translucent in her cup.

“Good morning, Kerry.” And with that, she pointed to the radio system.

“Let me show you the ropes.” I walked over and sat at the station, holding my crutches under one arm. Knowing I could use them at any time made me feel better. Like they were a choice, not a necessity. But I admitted, sitting in that chair was a reprieve.

There was a switchboard of lights in front of me. Multiple small television sets, like something a mall security guard would be staring at. All of them were from different locations around our county, and all of them showed a beautiful, clear day with no smoke in sight.

“As you know, we have firewatchers who check in with us here.” She pointed to a radio attached to a cord. “The frequency on this is always scanning between the towers. If someone calls in a report, you can answer it on the radio that is dedicated to their line. Now...” She pulled up a chair next to me and sat down, her keys jingling with every move she made. “If you get multiple calls at once, that’s when you go to this radio.”

“Tower Two to dispatch.” Kerry motioned to the radio before picking it up and responding to the man on the other end of the radio. As I listened, another call came through, and I followed her lead while she discussed things with Tower Two.

“Tower Three to dispatch, do you copy?” A woman’s voice rang through my head like a bell. I robotically pressed the button on my radio.

“Dispatch to Tower Three, what is your reading?”

“Tower Three to dispatch, all clear.” I plugged in a log where I was supposed to, just as Kerry got off of her call.

“Tower Three, all clear, copy,” I said, ending the call.

“Very good. Now, let me show you something else.” Kerry nodded and went onto the next instruction.

As the morning went on, I found myself just as engrossed in the dispatch as I was the rest of the fire operations that I had been working on. I loved every inch of it and was feeling excited about the work. After a few hours, her phone rang from her desk.

“Do you feel confident to handle the lines while I take that?” She spoke with a slight tone of sarcasm in her voice, like I might not feel like it.

“I’ve had such a good teacher, so, I think I’ll manage.” She nodded and went to her phone, her body swaying into the rhythm of the keys. When she came back, I would ask her just what they were for. As to my knowledge, no one had ever seen her use any of them. Just as I thought that, I saw her at her desk unlocking a drawer with one of them. Okay, I thought, they all must definitely have a purpose.

“Tower Three to dispatch, radio check.” A woman's voice filled the line, surprising me out of my thoughts.

“Tower Three, loud and clear. Over.” There she was again. Something about her voice sounded different. Younger. Cuter. I jotted down on my notepad T3 as a reminder to ask my uncle who we had in there. But my question was soon a moot point.

“Ah, you must be Stephanie's replacement?” The woman sounded sharp and bright as she spoke, and every bone in my body was intrigued. But then again, I’d felt ready for a relationship for a long time, and when that happens, you start to look at everyone with intrigue. I prayed at that moment for God to cool the jets. I was patient and waiting on His timing to send me to the right person.

“Guilty as charged,” I said, followed by a pause. I took my finger off the button for a moment, wondering why I would say something so stupid. “Yesterday was her last day.”

“I can’t wait to watch her YouTube channel when I get back home. I love colts and fillies,” she said. Before I could respond, Kerry sauntered back to my station. I could hear her keychain before I heard her.